


The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light

by ishannibalinlovewithme



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: 3.13, Drabbles, Hannibal is a bitch, M/M, Post S3 Finale, Post-Finale, Will doesn't cope well with the fact is on the run with Hannibal, Will fights Hannibal, and then I don't know, but he'll get used to it, i think, post Wrath Of The Lamb, they go to the beach and then to the mountain, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4779053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishannibalinlovewithme/pseuds/ishannibalinlovewithme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Hannibal are on the run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” Plato
> 
> \----
> 
> English is not my first language, feel free to correct me (just, stay polite ♥).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has no idea what is going on right now, he just wants a little bit of fresh air.

The first sun beams were already breaking through the curtains, slowly warming up the room they had rented in the first motel they had found. Will was stretched out in an old squealing bed whose worn springs were pushing in his back, and he hadn't slept a wink since they left the beach, or so little, and he didn't want to unless the other man slept deeply. This way he convinced himself he was still in control of the events and that nothing, not even sleep, would allow Hannibal to take advantage on him one way or another. Although his fear seemed quite irrational given that the old man was quite exhausted by his injuries and slept a lot if not exclusively. Besides, Hannibal did not seem upset at all, he remained quite unfazed by the events, and seemed barely even disturbed by the pain, or so it seemed. But it wasn't enough to reassure Will who kept silence.

In the bed they shared he was always turning his back on him and he hardly spoke to him – but he liked to watch him sleep. Will's strange anxiety did not matter to Hannibal, on the contrary, he was amused. He kept his usual smug, even while sleeping, and stubbornly refused to speak the first since they left together. He wanted Will to make the first move and to articulate his thoughts as soon as he was ready to do it. However, Will always managed to escape his gaze, pretending to take a peek through the curtains, even though he knew there was no patrol and that they were declared dead.

But here he was, staring painfully at the sun beams until it burnt his eyes and made him shed one or two tears. He focused on Hannibal's breathing for a while, until his own respiration took the same rhythm. He was giving thought to an idea he had since they had left the beach. He wanted to get up and walk out of their room and to forsake Hannibal for good. He wanted to be a true faceless person since he was disfugured, he wanted to use his own death to live as a recluse, so he could stay far away on a beach and drop his hands into motor oil and stare at the blank sky. He wanted to give up on Hannibal so he could prove himself he didn't need him.

Will let out a deep sigh hoping it could erase his doubts... But without success. While still in a deep sleep, Hannibal turned over, moving closer to Will and thus making the bed squeals horribly. His face was brushing his back, and his breath made Will's skin warm. The latter closed his eyes, overwhelmed by an unknown bliss which frightened him more than everything.

He waited a few seconds and then slipped quietly out of bed, making sure to be as silent as possible. Will removed his tee-shirt and replaced it with a dark wrinkled shirt, he pulled on his pants, a jacket, and cast a last glance behind him. Hannibal was still sleeping, eyes closed, a few strand of hair stroking his eyelids. Because he could feel his own heart melt at this view he quickly bent down to take his shoes and headed for the door. Hand on the handle, he thought about these last days. Neither of them left the room since they came in, one of them preferring to live in the shadows so he could not see his own reflection, the other one too weak to explore the surroundings. This time the urge was too strong and Will decided he wanted to dive into the sunlight and the cool morning. He turned the doorknob and slipped out, his heart pounding in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where I'm going with this story, I just wanted Will to have doubts... We'll see what happens next (but I don't think it will be too long).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Will has a panic attack and goes into a fight with Hannibal.

The sun feels so good on his skin that he feels intoxicated at the pleasure it gives him. His steps are light-hearted and almost joyful as he crosses the road between the motel and the beach. He doesn’t know if it is because he just left Hannibal or because he breathes some fresh air for the first time in a few days but he feels happy. All he cares about at this moment is the freedom with which he walks along the coast and with how much relief he appreciates the salty air and the sound of the waves against the shingle. Somehow it reminds him home. Molly’s and his. He remembers the short path to the cold lake behind the misty clearing. He only has to close his eyes and here he is, he can see it and he can feel it. He makes everything disappear around him so his mind can make place for this little scenery. It is night, a bit chilly, and Molly is lying by the water. She lighted a few candles and she is waiting for him to return with a bottle of whiskey. She doesn’t see him, not yet, and he watches her, suddenly filled with sadness as he understands he will never be able to reach for her. Not anymore.

His vision becomes silent, awfully silent. He’s not sure if he’s able to let it go, but he can feel he’s crying and his tears are very much real because they feel warm against his cheeks. He can feel the bottle of whiskey slipping from his hand, but it doesn’t even make any sound. Everything has frozen and he finds himself unable to move. He wished someone was there to help him so he could move and so he could leave this dream, but his eyes stay closed and he can’t make any sound. Soon he lacks air and starts suffocating. Strange enough, the pain is both a blessing and a torture as it helps him regaining consciousness. There he is, near the beach and under the sun. He decides to step over the parapet, quite clumsily, and to run on the beach. He still has difficulties to breathe and the empty horizon doesn’t help him much to focus on something positive. What on earth is he doing there ? Did he really chose this ? Why ? Why does it hurt so much ? It would be so much easier if he was dead. If only he could disappear…

“Will ?”

He knows that voice. It’s Hannibal’s. “Will…” His name on his lips only pushes him further in the water as he intends to throw himself into it. But he doesn’t, and Hannibal holds him back. “Get the fuck off !” As Will’s safety matters more to him than fixing his language, at least for the moment, Hannibal holds tightly onto him, wrapping his arms around the man as strong as he can, hoping this way to calm him down. “Enough ! Let me go !” Will screams, being even more furious than before. “I know you feel like you failed, and I know you hate yourself for that, more than you hate me. Feeling anger is perfectly normal, but wanting to kill yourself is pathetic.” Hannibal says, desperately trying to cling to Will as the man viciously struggles to set free.

Taking advantage of his recent injury, Will manages to kick him right in his bullet wound, making Hannibal shrieks for a brief second. He pushes him back and still gasps for air, more out of rage than of anxiety now. “You want my life, you want my death. You want everything and you want too much.” Hannibal tries to collect himself, holding his side as if he didn’t felt the stitches reopening. “That is not true. I cannot want what you already gave to me… Remember ? You killed us, and then we resurrected.” He says, panting. “And then you stayed.” “I just left.” Hannibal laughs. “Stay” He says, somehow modulating his voice so it doesn’t sound like he’s begging but he is, begging. Will doesn’t seem to care anyway, he answers bluntly. “Why ?” “Because it wasn’t only your life you took, it was also mine. And now you owe me.” “I owe you a stay in the limbo ?” he asks. “I was going to suggest Argentina, as it is much more sunnier and friendly to dogs.” His self-satisfied chuckle stays trapped in his throat as Will punches him in the face, almost breaking his nose but making it bleed for sure. Hannibal tries hard to hide his smile so he doesn’t look too pleased with himself. Will, on the other hand, feels much better, almost satisfied. He waits for Hannibal to say something, and Hannibal waits for him to move, patient enough and curious about whether or not he’s willing to go back with him. Will knows he doesn’t have many options, at least for now. He can’t go back to his old life and he feels uncomfortable at the thought of leaving Hannibal, though he doesn’t know exactly why. To keep him under his surveillance ? Or because he doesn’t have anywhere else to go ? Is it still curiosity ? The only thing is certain of is that he enjoys the sight of blood on his face, and it is this thought that makes him move first. “Let’s go.” Hannibal waits until he’s out of Will’s sight and then smiles at the sky while licking the blood running on his lips. He’s happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where I'm going but I needed to write this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere in a montainous area.

  He sat under the porch of their new home, enjoying the fresh air of pine wood which he missed so much since he had left Wolf Trap. He let the silence covering him like a safe and warm blanket while observing the steam coming out of his mouth. He felt safe here, in his modest cabin wood, isolated from the world, unknown to the world. He came here with his father, years ago, and almost come to forget about it. However, when it was time to find a place to hide, it was the first place that came to his mind. You could not access this cabin unless you had some hiking knowledge and climbing skills, you had to hunt and to fish for there was no human presence or activity within miles. And he particularly loved these cold mornings.

He usually got out of bed at dawn, only to get a smell of the woods and to observe the snowy landscape. Then he made a round, or two, taking delight in his own loneliness, only to get back at home and to see Hannibal preparing breakfast for two. He knew his absence in the room was enough to wake him up, and Hannibal knew the strong smell of coffee could make him walk his way faster.

This morning was not different from the others. When Will got back to the cabin Hannibal was already pouring coffee in their cups. It made him smile. A large and warm smile. It took him so much time to get used to this feeling, this weird feeling of happiness their intimacy gave him.

“Good morning, Will.”

“Good morning.”  

 

* * *

Him too felt solace at the sight of Will. But he couldn't help but feel worried when he made his rounds so lightly dressed for he was only wearing his underwear under his long coat. Will's lack of concern for his own health was, to Hannibal's surprise, a recurrent source of anxiety. If only he could keep him inside the cabin, safe and still in front of the fireplace.

It felt like time had frozen here. Just the two of them, silent, regaining their strength week after week. He had healed much faster than Will but he waited anyway, and taking care of each other they allowed themselves a bit of peace in Will's own paradise.

“How was your walk ?” He asked, with a smirk on his face, waiting for Will to fill the space with his voice.

“Cold.”

Hannibal put two plates on the table and filled them with an omelette while Will got dressed. It was the last one he could make as he planned to kill their hen. When he sat down Will joined him. His eyes were glowing and Hannibal stood still, curious, because he knew the man had something to announce.

“Our stocks are critically declining” He said, just before burning his tongue with the coffee. Hannibal silently approved with him, still waiting, but already guessing. Will stared at his plate without touching it.  

“I think we should move.” A sting of pleasure went through Hannibal's stomach.

“When ?”

“Whenever you're ready.” A pause. “Tonight then.” Will nodded and took a bite of his omelette.

“You made a plain omelette ?”

The older man repressed the desire to stick his fork into his face because he was too glad to get back to civilization with Will by his side.

“You said it yourself, we don't have much left.”

Will's pout immediately replaced the mixed feeling of frustration and murder by a need to kiss his face but he was too uncertain of Will's reaction to do so. Besides, he found his pleasure each night in Will's simple embrace, when the man was half asleep and yet still reached for him in their bed, grasping his chest and putting his head on it. The warmth which spread through Hannibal's body then was so intoxicating it made him feel dizzy and weak. He hated it and he loved it.

This thought was so frustrating to him that it made him loose his appetite. He put his fork on the table and gazed at Will.

“May I know where you intend to take us for our next vacation ?” A question only asked to hide the turmoil of feelings Will had just created.

The younger man took his time to answer, finishing his omelette and Hannibal's.

“I let you decide” he said, with an amused smile.   


End file.
